Lost and Found
by Cerulean's Skies
Summary: "Did you ever regret it?" Sansa swallowed thickly, the words like sand paper stuck to her throat. "What?" "Everything," Sansa choked out." Did you ever regret us?" / Harrold x Sansa modern au Years ago, Sansa Stark didn't turn up for her own wedding with Harrold Hardyng and three years later, she shows up for a funeral.


**An: We need more Harry x Sansa fanfics. Bradley James as Harrold Hardyng ftw**

"We are gathered here to say farewell to…"

The steady pitter-patter of rain washed away the rest of the priest's words in her mind, raindrops battering against the sea of black umbrellas and dark mourning clothes. Moistures trickles down the canopy of her own umbrella, escaping the edges, and a few spraying down her. The winds howled as the coldness nipped her clothes and seeped into her bones but she was indifferent to all these as she stared ahead while they lowered the casket down to the earth. Her tears had all dried up during the night they had called her, informing that Anya Waynwood at 89 had passed away peacefully in her sleep, but sometimes she catches herself, as she stares at the casket that day, her chest would quietly heave like it hurt too much to allow breathing and there's a sudden lump forming in her throat.

When all was said and done, people eventually leaving to return to the warm comforts of their homes, Sansa spotted a lone figure standing before the newly erected gravestone, the rain drenching his hair into a dark blonde shade and the black suit he was donned in.

Hesitating, she stopped mid-step, tasting the fear on her tongue and the wistfulness cleaving at the skin of her heart but she had made her decision before she even made this trip back to Vale so she wordlessly sauntered towards _him_, her hand gripping her umbrella the closer she gets.

Not trusting herself to utter out any words yet, she shifts the umbrella to shield the two of them under its canopy after she stopped beside him.

"Harry, I'm-"

"_**Don't**_," He cut her off, putting the coldness in the graveyard to shame with his frosty tone." Spare me your empty words, Stark."

When he finally looked at her, his eyes are darker than she last saw them. With every speck of color and tendril of shade, the bright blue eyes that used to have an air of warmth and wild tenacity looked more muted now, exhausted and steely. Hovering between subtly tumultuous blue and dark grey, the colors exuded a look of bitterness and contempt.

She wanted to wrap her arms around him with the hurt in his eyes but seeing the glare he was giving her, she restrained herself, knowing he would react harshly and would push her away.

"Leave," was all he said, turning away from her to stare at the slab of stone that had Anya H. Waynwood engraved on it.

Opening her mouth, she thought better of it, before closing it and walking away.

* * *

The Waynwoods and the rest of her friends in Vale had been more forgiving, the length of the three years behind them softening them up towards her previous transgression… but not forgetting it, never forgetting.

They were currently seated in front of the large fireplace of the Waynwood estate in Ironoaks as the fire crackled and hissed before them, licking the logs sporadically.

She can't help but feel out of place seated in her padded arm chair while everyone else had their spouses next to them or a child in their arms. Even Myranda had toddler on her lap, having married the sheepish Wallace Waynwood two years ago which Sansa had thought ironic since the girl swore up and down that she was never marrying a Waynwood with their long faces and stringy hair. Only Mya Stone sat alone on the hearth closest to Sansa with no spouse or partner like her. They were currently immersed in their conversation.

"I'm just saying, maybe you should give him time," Mya said, the fire in front of them casting shadows to her slim face.

"Mya, it's been three years."

Mya was supposed to give a reply when the sudden presence of Myranda interjected their talk, plopping herself next to Mya.

"Maybe three years isn't even enough?" Myranda said." Poor guy was really hurting after you left him at the altar."

Sansa flinched at her words. She knew the girl meant no offense, she was merely being blunt but despite that knowledge, it only worsened her worries.

"Randa…" Mya jabbed said woman.

"Speaking of Harry, where is he?" Myranda asked, her gaze sweeping over the place.

"Probably getting wasted at the first bar he found," Mya said, sounding as if she was all too used to this.

Myranda gave her a look. "Sorry Sansa, looks like you won't be getting that talk tonight. Not with Harry spending the night somewhere else."

"Sansa," Mya gave her a commiserating look," He's different now."

Myranda scoffed," More like he's worse than he was pre- Sansa."

"I just wanna talk to him," Sansa's voice sounded small in her ears and she hated how pathetic it seemed like.

"Look, sweetie, three years may not be enough to forgive," Myranda said," But maybe it's enough to forget."

Sansa subtly stiffened at those words.

"Randa…" Mya warned, chidingly eyeing Myranda.

"And I don't mean forget the transgression, I mean forget the feeling of love, losing it in all three years' worth of bitterness." Myranda reached out a hand to place on hers, rubbing her thumb over hers." He loved you with all your heart and you ripped it apart when you left him in that altar then you appear three years later, asking for, I don't know, a closure..?"

Sansa's gaze fell, slightly ducking her head. "I don't know…"

"Look," Mya cut in, trying to steer the conversation towards another direction," How about we get settled in for the night? Sansa, you might be feeling tired after traveling here from the capital. You already know the way to your room, right?"

Sansa nodded quietly.

Her room wasn't even her old room, rather the old room was Harry's when he had lived at the Waynwood estate when he had been younger. They usually shared it whenever they visited Ironoaks. For reasons blatantly known, she was given the guest room rather than the old one across. The room was sparsely decorated and furnished with the basic necessities in mind. Her things had been deposited earlier and were lying at the bottom of the closet.

Sansa softly plopped on top of the bed on her back, the covers a welcoming sensation against her chilled skin.

Staring at the ceiling, she couldn't help but think on how she was going to stay here for a week. She had accumulated enough days at work to take a leave for a week. Vale had been her home three years ago and the funeral had been almost like an eye opener to her on how she couldn't just leave things as they were when she left. She had left it as it is for far too long.

After minutes of tossing and turning on her bed with no sign of sleep anytime soon, she sooner realized she was thirsty… but not for water, apparently. Huffing, she sat up, already abandoning the idea of getting any sleep. She knew that Lady Waynwood had been stringent about having liquor in the house and if there was to be alcohol in her abode then it would only be rubbing alcohol so she would have no such luck finding any in the estate.

Shedding off her sleepwear, she squeezed into a pair of jeans and white shirt, throwing in a leather jacket and boots.

* * *

_The Moon Tavern_, the first bar she found, is sizeable enough. The hinges squeal as she pushed the door open. The bar is loud and dim-lighted, between neon lights on the sides and those contemporary pendant hanging lighting by the counter, and cheap dark wood paneling. The conversation swirl in clouds of plumes and the sharp smell of liquors wafts in the air inside, noises contesting above the din. Sansa pushed her way through warm bodies to order her drink, finding an empty stool by the counter where some patrons were slumped over.

A few minutes after she had gotten the drink she had ordered and paid for it, she becomes aware of the guys that are standing too close to her, the one with curly brown hair had to gall to offer her a drink. The other guy with brown hair so dark it almost looked black under the bar's lighting tried to wrap his arm which she constantly tried to shrug off, cooing _C'mon, babe, unwind with us_ in her ear. The last member of their group, a guy with pale eyes leered at her with a grin, moving closer to her than the others.

"I think the lady had made it clear that she doesn't want anything to do with any of you," A familiar voice said from behind her as she turned to see the scowling face of Harrold Hardyng.

"Harry-"

Before she could even finish her sentence or the guys next to her protest, Harry grabbed her by the elbow and brusquely lead her through the crowd. It is when they're finally outside that he let go of her.

"What the hell are you doing here, Stark?"

She wasn't certain if by _here_ he meant Vale or The Moon Tavern.

Between his cologne and his natural scent, she caught a whiff of alcohol on him and there's a faint tinge of red at the tip of his nose that he gets whenever he drinks.

_(She shook of the thought in the back of her mind that reminds her that she used to find it adorable on him and would once kiss the tip of his nose while saying so.)_

The sound of Harry sighing impatiently pulled her back from her train of thoughts. "Nevermind. Go back to the estate, Stark."

He was turning to head back into the bar again and seeing this, Sansa hastily calls him.

"Harry."

"What?" There's exasperation in his tone as he swiveled around to face her.

"Can we talk?" She willed herself to not look away from his sharp gaze. "…Please?"

"What is there to talk?" Was his curt reply.

"A lot."

He gave her a disbelieving look. "You disappear for three years and now you just waltz in, demanding to talk, like you never…"

He trailed off, averting his gaze from hers, and Sansa tried to step closer, worriedly regarding him.

"Look," He said, voice firm as he looked at her coldly," do me a favor and do yourself a favor, whatever you're trying to do, forget it."

Before he left to go back in, his last words were the final nail in the coffin. "And stop giving me those looks that make you seem like the victim. Because we both know you're not."

Sansa had stared at the spot Harry had been standing moments prior for what seemed like several minutes, his words echoing in her head, before she finally willed her feet to move towards her car which was parked nearby.

There was the threat of the impending onslaught of tears as she felt moisture prick the side of her eyes but she bit them back, furiously blinking them back as she tried averting her gaze upwards as she did so. It was only after making sure that she was not going to cry anymore that she twisted the key to start the car did she spot Harry leaving the bar with an arm around a slim brunette.

She drove her way out of there before he could even notice.

Back at the Waynwood estate, Mya eventually found her seated on the hearth, staring at the flames, even the embers reflected in her eyes couldn't hide the sadness in them. Wordlessly, she situates herself next to her.

"He hates me."

"Harry is mad at you but he could never hate you, as much as he tries."

"I've been so stupid."

"Sansa, why are you really here?" Mya had a sad smile in her eyes." I mean I know it's for the funeral but… It's been three years."

"I know I've been horrible," The bitterness and anger directed at herself leaked from her voice." Believe me, I've been wanting to go back ever since. I never stopped wanting to. I just…"

"Sansa…" For a split second, Mya paused, hesitating." What if he learned to stop waiting?"

Sansa could feel her breath caught in her throat, her heart dropping.

The words are stuck in her throat as Sansa couldn't bring herself to speak so Mya continued.

"Has three years prepared you for that? At the notion that maybe Harry had moved on."

Sansa swallowed thickly, willing to words to spill from her mouth," I don't think any amount of knowing prepares anyone for that."

Mya smiled sadly at her, laying a hand on her shoulder before she left.

"Get some rest, Sansa."

* * *

Sansa had woken up later than usual the next day, at around late morning and nearly noon when the sunlight filtering through partially closed was getting impossible to ignore. Bleary-eyed and groggy with sleep and with a tangy aftertaste on her tongue, she padded downstairs and had found her way to the kitchen. The house was oddly quiet, considering there were usually babies and toddlers frolicking around. The note spotted on the fridge was answer enough. Apparently, they had taken the kids to the park. Mya had stated that she had tried waking her up and asking her if she wanted to come along but she barely even stirred in her sleep and looked so tired that it made her regret even trying to wake her up.

She smiled at the note before deftly maneuvering her way around the kitchen, glad that she still knew her way around the house and nothing much had changed in said kitchen since she had last been here. Flitting around from frying bacon and eggs and making a fresh pot of coffee, the minimal clinging from the skillet and kitchenware filled the room.

When she had been nibbling on her bacon, she had almost choked on it when Harry had ambled downstairs in grey sweatpants and one of those plain white shirts with black short sleeves that indicated that he had just gotten up from bed and his bed hair was tousled wildly.

After noticing her he had just proceeded to ignore her, heading straight to the pot on the coffee maker and pouring himself a cup. There was an awkward silence that enveloped the kitchen as Harry prepared his toast while pretending Sansa didn't even exist and she was quietly munching on her breakfast, having on internal turmoil on whether she should attempt to talk to him again.

"So I've heard you got promoted to COO." She tried her hand at a small talk first, ignoring the pink elephant in the room.

"A few months after uncle Jon's death, yes." She could the clinking as Harry reached for a plate for his toast.

"You've permanently moved to the Arryn manor?"

"Yes."

"How's Robin?"

"Fine."

The conversation was turning out to be more one-sided than Sansa anticipated but at least he was talking to her.

When she saw Harry leaving, she hastily spoke, stopping him mid-step.

"Harry, I'm sorry." She was unaware that she was gripping her for tightly in anxiety. "For what it's worth, I'm so sorry. There's not a day that goes by that I don't regret what I did."

Harry turned around to face her. His expression was unreadable. Even the raw anger the night prior was better than the cold indifference on his face in that moment.

She didn't even give him a chance to speak and continued, too afraid that he would lash out on her again.

"Would you rather have me go through with it, torn and unsure? I wanted to give myself wholly to you not when half my heart was only in it. I thought it would get better but the day before the wedding it only got worse, if I was unsure before the marriage even began, how would it even get better when we do get married?"

"No, Sansa, I would rather have you love me enough not to leave," He replied, voice unwavering." But I should thank you."

"For?"

"For making me realize that marriage, love and commitments like those aren't for me."

"No, don't say that."

"It's true," He smiled bitterly," If love is being left behind in the altar without any explanation. If love is sleepless nights, asking yourself where you went wrong, and punching the wall till your fists turns bloody, if love is giving your heart to someone just to get it ripped out, if love is screaming your throat raw and the sound of pain night after night, then I don't want any of it."

"You don't mean that," She choked out, eyes drowning in unshed tears wanting to spill.

"It's too early for this," He grumbled, fully intent on walking out.

"Har, I still love you!" She desperately blurted out, her lips quivering while she tried to fight back her tears from spilling." And I was scared that you weren't the right person for me. That scared me more than anything. Because, damn it, I wanted you to be the right person, I still do. So I ran away. And that was stupid of me."

"You left me out in the cold and I learned to keep myself warm," He replied." You can't just break me and take me back as soon as I fixed myself. That's unfair."

"You're not fine. Not like this."

"Sansa," He said, frosty," I feel nothing for you now."

* * *

"Remember that time you cheated on Sansa with your ex?" A familiar voice suddenly asked, abruptly sliding on the seat next to him. It's too early for the bar to be packed so Harry could hear him clearly without the usual noise." The one with the spice name. Was it cinnamon or was it cloves?"

"Saffron."

"Yes, her. It was at the first year of your relationship too."

"Roland, I don't have time to walk through memory lane with you," Harry sardonically replied, nursing his drink." What are you getting at?"

"What I'm getting at is that if the world didn't give each other second chances, we would all be single."

"Wow, even you're spouting sappy nonsense now."

Roland shrugged." Sansa forgave you for cheating."

"I didn't leave Sansa at the altar in front a hundred guests and I didn't disappear on her without any explanation for three years."

"You keep saying that but as I remembered correctly she tried reaching out for you to explain after that but you wouldn't answer her calls or messages."

"Stop trying to be smart. It doesn't suit you."

"Stop being a brooding asshole. It doesn't suit you."

"Duly noted. Is this talk over now?"

"Give her a chance, Harry," Roland sighed.

"What if I don't want to?" Harry challenged, taking a swig of his drink.

"That's not true," Roland said." You want to and you want her."

"Didn't know my glares and cold words gave off that impression."

"In between you trying to ignore her?"

"Why is everyone siding with her now?" Harry scowled, tone frosty." Is everyone forgetting what she did?"

"It's not about taking sides, Harry. This is not a game."

"Tell that to Sansa," Harry grumbled." It's like a game for her. She sets me aside and then gets her interests back when I've finally moved on."

"Wow, you're really antagonizing her."

"Fool me once, shame on her. Fool me twice, shame on me."

Roland regarded Harry and then chuckled." I reckon she told you she still loved you?"

Harry cringed at his words.

"I don't really care," Harry stiffly replied. "I'm too busy enjoying my bachelor life with drinks and girls."

"You're aspiring to be the next Robert Baratheon now?"

"How dare you, Robert Baratheon has a hot wife," Harry sarcastically shot back." And I said bachelor. The guy's happily married now. Which I won't be. Never ever."

* * *

"So you're really leaving?" Myranda walked into her room as she was folding and packing her clothes, immediately taking a seat on her bed. "Just like that?"

"I've overstayed, Myranda."

"Harry told you that?" It doesn't escape her how Sansa stiffened at the mention of Harry's name.

"He's made it quite clear that he doesn't want me here."

"Awwhhh…" Myranda pouted." So no steamy make out session or hot makeup sex? They usually have that in moves."

"Myranda!" Sansa looked appalled.

Myranda laughed at her expression." Just kidding. But really, you shouldn't leave. Harry's just being an arse."

"He speaks of the truth."

Myranda grimaced." So just like that? Harry reminds you of the truth and you run away. Is it always going to be like this? Because the truth is, you _**left**_ him. Don't sugarcoat it. Stop running away. That's what got you into this mess in the first place."

Sansa smiled sadly." I always dreamt of getting swept off my feet, falling in love and getting married at 25 when I was a kid. But an abusive boyfriend and almost getting sexually assaulted by my aunt's boyfriend made me realize that there's no prince charming or a knight in shining armor. In real life, there are monsters. Harry was different and maybe because of that I was so desperate for love that I rushed into it."

"You didn't "rush into it"," Myranda emphasized the last words, making air quotes," It was a year of you two skirting around the obvious with you being reluctant and Harry flirting and fawning over you before you finally got together."

"And what happened," Myranda's voice turned a bit somber," Wasn't just painful or heartbreaking for Harry, it was damaging. We can't blame him for learning to live without you when you leaving forced him to."

"Not everyone who leaves wants to."

"I know," Myranda smiled sadly." Harry was supposed to be mine, you know. I knew him the longest. Maybe that's why I felt entitled to receive his love."

Sansa hadn't spoken a word, staring at the shirt in her grasp as she had stopped packing then, so Myranda continued.

"And when you left, I wanted to take the opportunity. There's nothing easier to sway than a broken heart, a little comforting here and letting time do the rest. But I didn't. Because we all have that person we'll always love no matter how much pain they put us through," Myranda looked at her, meeting her gaze." And you're that person for Harry. I saw that in the way he was grieving over the loss of a person who's still alive."

Myranda handed her a thin plastic case which upon further inspection was a disk case." Your flight's tomorrow, right? Take time to watch this tonight."

"What's this?" Sansa arched a brow at the girl.

"Just watch it," Was all Myranda's reply before she left the room.

It was later that night, clad in her old King's Landing University t-shirt and blue cotton shorts with a mug of coffee in her grasp, that she slid in the disk into her laptop to see the familiar introduction appear on the screen with the opening to the song Falling slowly from her favorite movie in the background.

It was her pre-wedding video.

She exhaled, her breath unsteady, as tears gather in her eyes. She knew it quite well since she had her own copy placed at the bottom of the compartment in her dresser, the one where she also kept her journal. And she's reminded of the wedding vows she had poured over, written on a piece of paper yellowing at the edges, pasted on the last page of said journal.

There are some nights where she'd play the tape as she was sitting on the couch in front of the tv, wearing Harry's old falcon printed t-shirt that she had accidently brought with her when she had left, willing her senses to catch on any semblance of his scent on it and trying not to cry over how happy they looked in the video.

Watching it in that moment made her heart clench painfully, because Harry- with bright blue eyes, dimple pressed cheeks, and his smile that she once thought could make flowers grow- she wonders when she'll ever see the happiness in his eyes or that smile ever again.

* * *

A few hours before her flight, Sansa Stark found herself standing by the lake near the Waynwood estate. She had her arms folded around herself as she gazed at the water gleaming under the early morning sun, reminiscing on the memories being evoked by the place.

"I looked for you." Glancing, Sansa saw Harry quietly saunter over to stand next to her, a respectable distance between them." And two years ago, I found you. With someone else."

"There wasn't-" Sansa was quick to answer," You could've approached me. There wasn't anyone."

"What I'm trying to say is there's no point of seeking out someone else for closure, if you're here for that. My closure didn't come from you. It came from accepting that people just wake up one day and realize you don't matter as much as they made you believe. There's isn't always an explanation. That maybe everyone isn't for everyone. That you weren't for me."

"But what if you were the one for me but I wasn't?"

Harry looked at her with sad eyes and Sansa realized that the coldness and bitterness didn't come from the three years' worth of anger but rather sometimes when people bury such amount of sadness underneath instead of letting it out, it crawls to their veins and into their heart. And that's just what happened to Harry.

"I'm disappointed." He said." I gave you the power to destroy me and that's just what you did."

"I'm sorry."

"Let it go, Sansa," Harry uttered softly." It's easier that way."

"No, I don't want to," She replied, sounding like a petulant child with her voice breaking as a sob escaped her quivering lips, grey orbs swimming in unshed tears." I don't want to. I can't."

"You can. And you will."

"No," Sansa stubbornly shook her head.

"Sansa, you screwed me over and I'm not the same person anymore," He said." Whatever you're looking for it's not here anymore."

Silence followed after that as Sansa didn't trust her voice to utter any words without breaking and Harry had suddenly kept quiet.

"Did you ever regret it?" Sansa swallowed thickly, the words like sand paper stuck to her throat.

"What?"

"Everything," Sansa choked out." Did you ever regret us?"

"No, I didn't," Harry honestly replied." Despite the pain, I can't pretend that there weren't good things in that relationship."

"… Before we part ways, can you hold me? Just for a while? Please?"

Harry gave her a remotely concealed pitying look." Don't make this harder for yourself."

"I don't know when I'll see you again."

Harry eventually pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around him and tucking her head under his chin.

"Goodbye, Sansa."

* * *

_Vale plane crash around 10 a.m._

Those were the words that kept racing through Harry's mind even as he clambered into his car, pushing in the key with shaking hands and driving off. He wasn't even sure where he was headed to or what the point was in driving off.

_Sansa has the 10 a.m. flight_

She wasn't even supposed to fly back home until the end of the week, he had heard Myranda say, she had just decided to cut her trip short after seeing that…

_Oh God!_

_Please don't take her away. Not like this._

Tears started welling up in his eyes, blurring his sight on the road. He should really stop, he was losing focus on the-

His gaze instantly snapped to a familiar looking grey rental car situated at the side of the road, its hood opened with a figure hunched over it. Before he even knows it, he's getting out of his car.

"Sansa?"

As soon as he saw the girl turn her head to him, his long strides swallow the distance between them as he took the girl in his arms.

"What's this about?" Sansa chuckled, stunned.

Harry pulled back, leaning his forehead against hers," You scared me. Don't do that again."

"Wh- what?"

"Your plane crashed. And if-"

"Oh."

"That's all you can say?" Harry stared back at her, incredulous." You almost-"

"But I didn't," She assured." It's okay, Harry. I'm fine."

"Sansa?"

"Yes?"

"Give me more time."

She nodded, understanding him as he pressed a kiss on her forehead.

* * *

More time equated to four months when she looks up from the plate of chicken pasta as they were eating lunch at that place just across work and Jeyne keeps on gushing about the hot blonde who kept looking at their direction and she sees those familiar bright blue eyes again.

She smiles when later he tells her- "Sorry I took too long."


End file.
